Post by 𝕊’𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖 on Feb 29, 2024 7:43:46 GMT -5
Hi, this is my submission for the writing contest, I impulsively decided to enter on the very last day, so here you go!
The song is “King and Lionheart” by of Monsters and Men, the characters and world are my own.
Description: It’s been 6 months since Runemore’s tyrannical leader was killed and usurped by his second in command: Elijah Grimm. Now, Elijah is tasked with leading Runemore to a better future, but as Beltane draws near and Elijah grows restless, he sets out on a dangerous journey to confront ghosts of the past with his close friend: Charlie Chesnokov.
The song is “King and Lionheart” by of Monsters and Men, the characters and world are my own.
Description: It’s been 6 months since Runemore’s tyrannical leader was killed and usurped by his second in command: Elijah Grimm. Now, Elijah is tasked with leading Runemore to a better future, but as Beltane draws near and Elijah grows restless, he sets out on a dangerous journey to confront ghosts of the past with his close friend: Charlie Chesnokov.
Howling Ghosts
It had been six months since everything happened. Six months since Elijah had twisted a knife into Malachi’s back and carved out his heart. Six months since everything changed.
Runemore celebrated Malachi’s demise with feasts and dances. The streets hadn’t gone to sleep for weeks after news of his death spread like wildfire throughout the city and neighboring towns. For the others, it meant freedom from their tyrant, it meant change, it meant peace.
For Elijah, it meant something different.
He never regretted killing him, not for a moment. However, it was all too easy to close his eyes and see flashes of the memory.
Malachi stepped forward, the wind whipping through his black and white hair.
Elijah steadied his breathing as he grasped the curved carving knife hidden under his coat.
Inhale.
Elijah plunged the knife through his back, between his spine and his ribs, hitting Malachi’s heart.
Exhale.
He pulled the knife free, Malachi’s eyes glazed over, and blood spilled everywhere, soaking Malachi’s clothes, leaking from the knife and dripping onto the grass, staining Elijah’s hands red as the blood oozed between the crevasses of his fingers, flowing across the life, mind, and heart lines on his palms.
Elijah blinked, bringing himself back to the present.
He stood in the center of the city as people set up decorations for Beltane. Spring was upon them, and much like the world around them, the people, too, were beginning to heal from the dark, cold months of winter.
Slowly, life returned to Runemore. It would take time for anyone to heal from Malachi’s five-year reign of torment, but at least by now, Elijah could see the seeds of life beginning to sprout again as children laughed and music drifted through the streets.
Beltane would be upon them soon and, with it, a season of rebirth.
Yet, as Elijah watched the townsfolk prepare the celebrations, he couldn’t find it in him to join in. Not yet. Not when there was still something he needed to do.
Sighing, Elijah turned away, walking further down the street, weaving through the city with the ease of someone who had spent his entire life in Runemore until he had finally neared the edge of the city.
He had left a note for Eleanor and Elfie; his siblings would know where he went and when to expect him back. Elijah trusted them and his Court to keep Runemore safe without him, at least for today.
“Hey, Eli!” called a voice from behind, and Elijah froze. “Where’re you going?”
Elijah turned around to find a familiar man, twenty years old—the same as Elijah, waiting for him, with fluffy, deep violet hair that framed his round face. Natural brown skin decorated with large spot-like freckles and striking honey-yellow eyes that stood out like a fire in the dark. The man wore a colorful, hand-knit cloak and a smile brighter than the sun as he looked at Elijah.
Charlie Chesnokov.
Elijah nodded in greeting to him and turned away. “I need to take care of something before Beltane; I’ll only be gone a day or so,” he explained.
Charlie tipped his head to the side, making a face as he looked at Elijah. “Leaving alone, so close to Beltane, never bodes well in stories,” he warned and swung his arms in the air, light on his feet as he fell into step next to Elijah. “Would you like some company?”
Elijah raised his brow, sending him a look. “You don’t even know where I’m going,” he objected. “I’m sure you have family and friends to visit, people to celebrate with; you should spend your time with them, not with me.”
Charlie shrugged. “Bifrost took a trip out to Horizon recently. He closed up the bookshop and everything, so it’s just me until he gets back,” Charlie explained and smiled up at Elijah. “Besides, if I don’t go with you, who will make sure you don’t get swept up by a vengeful spirit or a shadow monster?” he questioned and tutted, shaking his head. “I can hear the uproar now, Runemore’s brave new Vespertine, taken from us too soon by a monster from the shadows.”
Charlie took a deep breath, clasping his hands in front of him. “I can’t let that happen; you’re far too important to Runemore to lose right before Beltane,” he decided and smiled at Elijah.
Elijah hummed softly. He knew Charlie was trying to lighten the mood but also knew it wasn’t a lie. Runemore couldn’t afford to lose two leaders within a year, and although Elijah knew he could handle himself, the veil was thin right now, and the chance of something happening was never impossible.
Sighing, Elijah turned away from Charlie, gesturing with his head for Charlie to join him. “Well, I can’t argue with logic like that,” he decided. “You may come if you wish, though I warn you that I am not going anywhere fun.”
If it had been anyone else, Elijah might’ve refused company, but when it was Charlie, he never seemed to mind.
”I don’t know,” Charlie objected, swinging his arms around. “I like to think I can find the fun in any location. Where are we going?”
“The Lonely Archipelago.”
Charlie paused, the color draining from his face. “Oh. I see…” he trailed off, fidgeting a little as he tugged at his cloak. After a minute, Charlie nodded and lifted his chin, taking a deep breath. “That’s across Lunumbra; it’ll take a while to get there, even by train. Do you want me to try and portal—”
”No,” Elijah objected quickly. “The further the distance, the more energy it drains from you; I would never ask that of you,” he said, shaking his head as he looked down at Charlie. “Besides, as you said, it’s nearly Beltane; I don’t want anything to mess with your magic.”
Charlie hummed unsurely, looking down. “If you’re sure…” he agreed. “But it’ll still take us a while to get there. Train would be the fastest route, and even then, it’ll be a couple of hours,” he said, glancing back at Elijah. “Are we stopping in Horizon or going through the Suncross Mountains?”
“We’re taking the mountain pass,” Elijah answered, looking off into the distance where the vague silhouette of the Suncross Mountains glistened in view. “The less stops we have to make, the better.”
Charlie nodded in understanding, standing next to Elijah. “Interesting choice,” he commented, and Elijah glanced back at him, meeting his gaze.
Charlie furrowed his brows together in thought, a soft hum emitting from his throat. “My father used to warn me that mountains could trap spirits, blocking them from ascending to the Celestial City and that, if you paid attention, you could hear their cries of fear echoing from the mountains during times like this when the veil is at its thinnest…”
Elijah froze at the thought, and he slowly side-eyed Charlie as if half-expecting him to crack a joke and burst into laughter.
Charlie did neither, and after a minute, he took a breath and looked up at Elijah, smiling at him. “To the train station then?” he asked.
The train station was oddly quiet by the time Elijah and Charlie arrived. Few people made trips out of the city so close to Beltane, and even fewer visited. It had been a long time since Runemore received visitors, and though the rare, brave adventurers chose to test the waters and see for themselves if Runemore was truly free of their tyrant, getting people to visit was a slow-going process.
One, Elijah hoped to remedy as life went on. He could prove to the rest of Lunumbra that Runemore had changed for the better now; he could turn a place seeped in fear and ruin into something warm and light, and Beltane would be the first step to that.
“Wow, a whole compartment to ourselves,” Charlie said, breaking Elijah out of his thoughts as he walked into the compartment and swung his arms around, humming in approval. “Dazzling, I’d whistle in approval if I knew how.” Charlie turned back to Elijah and gestured with his hands. “I could never figure out what to do with my tongue,” he explained, pointing to his mouth.
Elijah snorted softly through his nostrils and closed the door, sitting down. “Your tongue goes against your bottom teeth,” he explained and gave an example of a low whistle.
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “You made that seem so easy!” he commented and quickly sat down next to him, pressing his hands to his seat cushions as he leaned forward, staring at Elijah with large, curious eyes. “Can you show me again?”
Elijah obediently whistled again.
Charlie clapped once in excitement and leaned back, making a face as he tried to mimic what Elijah had done to no avail. After a few tries, Charlie sighed in defeat and scooted further away. “I just can’t figure it out. That’s okay; you can whistle for me,” he decided with a smile as he looked at Elijah.
Elijah’s lips curved into a soft smile as he watched him. Charlie had a way of brightening nearly any situation. In a way, it almost seemed fair to compare him to the sun. Something so bright that it couldn’t be ignored as it lit up the world. Even the moon would not shine without its light, and that was the sort of light Elijah saw in Charlie.
Charlie kicked his feet a little and pulled a book from his bag. It had a purple cover and off-white pages, though Elijah couldn’t distinguish the title from where he sat.
“What are you reading?” Elijah questioned curiously as he fidgeted in his seat. The train ride to Knife’s Edge would take at least three hours, so it would be best to get comfortable.
Charlie glanced up and offered Elijah a smile. “It’s a collection of fairy tales written by Madigan Willoughby,” he explained, lifting the book for Elijah to see. “I’ve heard he’s going to publish another volume soon.”
“Oh, I love his stories,” Elijah said. “They’re all so tragic.”
“Tragic?” Charlie repeated, a slight edge to his words as he cocked his head to the side, studying Elijah.
Elijah nodded. “Well, yes, tragic,” he repeated. “Almost every tale ends in heartbreak, death, or some other form of tragedy; how else would you describe it?” he asked.
Charlie fidgeted uncomfortably and looked down. “I…I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he admitted softly.
“Don’t get me wrong, I admire Willoughby’s work,” Elijah added quickly, waving his hand in the air. “He’s a masterful storyteller, and as a storyteller myself, I have a respect for the art,” he added, placing a hand over his chest. “I just wish he’d give at least one of them a happy ending.”
Charlie frowned, looking down. “What if tragedy is all he knows how to write?”
Elijah’s brows furrowed in thought as he pondered the question. “Then, I imagine Mr. Willoughby must be a very tragic man.” Not that that was something Elijah could fault him for. On the contrary, that might be something Elijah had in common with the author. After all, could he really ask for a happy ending when he saw none for himself? Perhaps that was why Elijah was drawn to Willoughby’s books: He could read the tragedy on each page and see a reflection of himself.
Charlie didn’t respond immediately, looking out the window as the train took off. After a minute, he sighed and glanced back at Elijah. “I suppose you might be right,” he agreed and smiled at Elijah, inhaling sharply. “So, what story of his is your favorite? Tragedy aside?” he asked, changing the topic.
Elijah returned the smile with one of his own. “Oh, that is hard to say. I’ve always been partial to the Crow’s Disguise, but the Forget-Me-Not Princess is another good one…” he trailed off, looking back at Charlie. “What about you?”
Charlie smiled at the question and flipped open the book, his shoulders relaxing. “I like all of them, but Lionheart is one of my favorites. Did you know he wrote it first but scrapped it for years before revisiting it? I suppose if I had to pick a favorite, that’s the one I’d pick…”
Charlie continued to talk, rambling about the stories in his book.
Elijah leaned his head back, content to listen to whatever Charlie had to say until they arrived at Knife’s Edge.
After all, it was a welcome distraction from the memories that continued to surface inside his head.
Elijah stared out the window, taking a deep breath as the Suncross Mountains came into view. His mind flashed back to what Charlie had said, how spirits get trapped in the mountains, screaming out in fear. He couldn’t help but wonder just what souls were trapped there. No bodies, no peace, and no way to the next life.
How many screams could he hear if Elijah paid attention? Was the wind howling in the canyons merely nature’s wrath, or was it something else? Something otherworldly?
Slowly, Elijah drifted off, lulled to sleep by the sound of Charlie’s voice and the rhythmic motion of the train speeding down the tracks.
Elijah stood alone on a dark cliffside, the moon glowing above him and the jagged rocks lining the ground where the ocean meets the land below him.
“Eli…” The wind howled Elijah’s name in a sickeningly familiar voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time.
“Malachi,” Elijah said, whipping his head around to face the other man; however, when he turned around, no one was there. Just Elijah and the moon.
“This is your fault, Elijah,” whispered the voice, and for a split second, Elijah swore he could feel Malachi’s presence next to him. “All of this is because of you.”
Elijah turned around again, his heart beating in his chest. Malachi wasn’t there; however, this time, Elijah spotted a small boy, roughly around the age of eight, crying on his knees not far off, with raven black hair that matched Elijah’s and deep blue eyes that could’ve been confused for violet in the right light.
Emery. Elijah’s youngest brother.
Elijah ran over to him. “Emery, I’m here, it’s alright, I’m here—” As soon as Elijah got close enough, he froze, quickly realizing that the boy wasn’t crying tears, but rather, scarlet red blood.
Emery lifted his head, cupping the blood in his hands as it spilled from his eyes. “How could you let it get this far?” he asked in his soft voice. “How could you let this happen?”
Elijah shook his head, a wave of cold coursing through his veins as he stepped back. “No—no, I never meant to—I never wanted it to get this far; I tried to stop him, I did stop him—”
”Not soon enough!” Emery snapped, and when he stood, he hovered in the air, dripping blood onto the grass. “How many of us died before you acted? This is your fault!”
Behind Emery, more ghosts appeared, each bleeding from their eyes as they screamed at Elijah. Each face was one he recognized, from the oldest of men to the youngest of children. They were the faces of Runemore, the people who had suffered the most through Malachi’s reign of torment and terror.
Those that had died because of it.
Elijah’s eyes widened as he gulped, stepping back until his feet pressed against the edge of the cliff. Pebbles broke off from his boots, falling into the darkness below him, and as the ghosts grew, the moon turned red behind them.
”See, Elijah?” Malachi’s voice whispered in his ear. “It’s all your fault!”
Elijah woke with a start, blinking rapidly as he looked around his surroundings, his heart pounding loudly in his chest until he realized where he was and relaxed his shoulders. He was alright, he was in the compartment on the train, with Charlie…
Elijah paused, quickly noticing the absence of the other man. Elijah frowned, and for a split second, he worried that Charlie had left until he noticed Charlie’s bag resting in his seat, with the book of fairy tales poking out. He was still here; he just…wasn’t here.
Standing up, Elijah ran a hand through his hair. “I wonder how much time has passed?” he murmured.
Just then, the compartment door opened, and Elijah turned around to see Charlie standing in the doorway, holding two cups of what seemed to be frozen custard in his hands.
As soon as Charlie spotted him, he smiled. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, walking into the compartment and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We’ll be arriving at Knife's Edge any moment; I was just about to wake you—” Charlie paused, looking at the custard. “This is for you, by the way. I got it in the dining car; blackberry is still your favorite flavor, right?”
Elijah blinked, tentatively taking the cup from him. “It is,” he confirmed and looked over the custard. A small wooden spoon was in the middle, and although the pink custard was soft, it hadn’t begun to melt yet. “I didn’t know they had frozen custard here.”
“It’s a new addition!” Charlie explained happily and showed Elijah the second cup, half peach and half raspberry, swirled together. “One of their new kitchen staff has ice magic. I had a lovely conversation with him while you were resting; he’s a descendant of a jotun! We talked about ice magic for a while, and he gave me this one—” Charlie gestured to his cup. “For free!”
Elijah nodded and looked down at his cup, stirring the blackberry custard with the spoon. “You didn’t have to get me one,” he objected. “How much was it? I can pay you back.”
Charlie shook his head. “No, thank you, it’s a gift, no money back required,” he promised with a wave of his hands. “Besides, I hate eating alone; it gets lonely, so I thought it would be better to share it with you,” he explained and smiled at Elijah.
Elijah met Charlie’s gaze and smiled back. It hadn’t been a treat he expected, but nonetheless, it was a welcome one. “Thank you,” he said, scooping up some of the custard to sample. Immediately, the sweet taste of cream, sugar, and blackberry melted on his tongue, and Elijah couldn’t help but hum in approval.
Next to him, Charlie tried his own custard, forgoing the spoon and licking it directly out of the cup with his tongue, getting a spot on his nose.
Elijah did his best not to chuckle. “Don’t tell me they only gave us one spoon,” he joked, following Charlie out of the compartment and exiting the train.
Charlie blinked and looked back at Elijah, tipping his head curious to the side for a moment before his eyes lit up in understanding, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry, they gave us two spoons,” he promised, holding two fingers up to emphasize his point. “I just don’t like the texture of the wooden spoons, and I’m always worried about getting a splinter in my mouth,” Charlie added, making a face as he shivered at the thought.
Smiling up at Elijah, Charlie continued. “So I thought it would be easier to use nature’s spoon!” He exclaimed and lifted the cup to his face, licking more custard. “Tada!”
Elijah chuckled and shook his hand, pulling a white handkerchief from his vest pocket. “I see. Well, I won’t stop you, but I should let you know that you have just a smidge of custard on your nose,” he warned, offering Charlie the handkerchief to clean it.
Charlie’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Oops,” he whispered, letting out a light, slightly strained chuckle as he took the handkerchief from Elijah and quickly wiped his face. “I had no idea, thank you,” he said and followed Elijah out of the train and onto the only train station in Knife’s Edge.
The atmosphere was warm and humid and far busier than things had been in Runemore, with people shouting at each other and pushing their way through the crowds.
Charlie hovered close to Elijah, clearing his throat. “So, now that we’re here, how will we get to the Lonely Archipelago?” he questioned, looking up at Elijah. “We’ll need a sailor, and not just any sailor either. We’ll need someone willing to go that close to the shadow fog, and I don’t know many sailors who dare to go that far…”
Elijah hummed in response. “I already thought of that,” he explained with a quick wave of his hand. “I heard word of a sailor out here who could navigate parts of the shadow fog, so I sent him a letter asking for his assistance. Luckily, he was happy to oblige…” Elijah paused, discreetly revealing a pouch of coins to Charlie. “For a price, of course.”
Charlie furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’ve never heard of any sailors like that; who is he?”
Just then, a commotion sounded a few feet ahead, and Elijah stepped out of the way of a wobbly man who fell at his feet. A crowd circled over the commotion, and Elijah weaved his way through, pausing once he made it to the front of the crowd.
In the center of the circle, a tall, well-muscled man with wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and striking green eyes ducked out of the way of another man, this one short and stout and covered in scars. The first man smirked and put his hands behind his back as he dodged the flurry of attacks while a red coat with a silver trim hung loosely over his shoulders.
“Come on, then, mate, you aren’t even trying!” the first man taunted. “I’m not even using my hands!”
The second man charged again and completely missed his target.
The first man sighed in disapproval and struck fast, grabbing his opponent by the back of his shirt and hoisting his entire body over his head before tossing him into the nearby crates.
The crowd cheered, and the first man took a bow. “Thank you, thank you, it was nothing though, really, hardly even a challenge…”
Charlie’s eyes widened.
Elijah smirked and glanced down at him, gesturing his arm out. “Charlie, meet Hal Highwater,” he introduced. “The best sailor in all of Lunumbra.”
Hearing his name, Hal turned his attention to Elijah and Charlie, dusting off his hands as he walked over. “Eli, glad to see you made it,” he greeted, smirking as he placed a hand on his hips. “Who’s your little pal?”
Elijah opened his mouth to answer. However, Charlie beat him to it.
“I’m Charlie!” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out for Hal to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.” Charlie looked past Hal, eyeing the man he had been fighting. “Is he alright?”
“Eh, don’t worry about him; he knew what he was getting into,” Hal said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Charlie, eh?” he asked, shaking Charlie’s outstretched hand. “Quite the little guy, aren’t you? I bet I could snap you in half with my knee.”
Charlie laughed, though Elijah couldn’t help but notice the light curve of his lips, tighter than his usual smiles.
“I’m sure you think you could!” Charlie happily agreed, the friendly tone of his voice never slipping as he pulled his hand free. “I just hope you’re as good at sailing as you are at your acute observations!”
Hal snorted in response, pointing his thumb at his chest. “I’m the best damn sailor around, Love. Trust me, you’re in good hands,” he said and turned around, gesturing for Elijah and Charlie to follow him. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time; if you two are serious about heading to the Lonely Archipelago, we better go. Sawyer’s already on the ship.”
Elijah fell into step behind Hal, casting a look back at Charlie. “So, what do you think of our sailor?” he questioned in bemusement.
Charlie glanced from Elijah to Hal, humming softly. “He is definitely quite the character,” Charlie answered.
Elijah chuckled lightly in response. “Welcome to Knife’s Edge. Everyone here is a character.”
Hal’s ship was smaller than Elijah had expected. Fitting enough for a crew of ten or so people, but no more than fifteen at best. He had been anticipating something similar to the Drifters, the privateer vessel that served the noblemen of Knife’s Edge.
Instead, he was met with something…not quite small, though far more manageable. Hal had called it the Sea Lion, which seemed like an odd name for a ship, but Elijah knew better than to pry.
Hal steered the ship, standing at the helm as he focused on the islands in the distance. Another man kept him company—a short man with soft blonde hair and light blue eyes that Elijah had come to know as Sawyer, Hal’s right-hand man, and, if Elijah was to guess by the way he hovered so closely over Hal, something quite a bit more.
Turning away from Hal and Sawyer, Elijah spotted Charlie nearby, leaning forward to stare into the water as he rested his elbows against the railing, brows knitted together in thought and concentration.
Smiling softly, Elijah moved to join him, mimicking Charlie’s pose and resting his elbows over the ship’s railing. “Copper for your thoughts?” he asked.
“Hmm?” Charlie glanced at him for a moment before looking back at the water. “Oh, I was just…thinking,” he explained, tipping his head to the side. “About the shadow fog.” Charlie looked forward as the Sea Lion neared a collection of small islands at the edge of Lunumbran waters, where the shadow fog—a thick, pitch-black fog, lapped over the ocean surface.
Growing up on Lunumbra, Elijah knew the shadow fog well and how it kept everyone trapped on the islands of Lunumbra for over a hundred and fifty years, as it was impossible to navigate. No one went in, and no one came out.
They were close enough to it that Elijah swore he could hear something. Voices, whispering things he couldn’t understand from the depths of the fog, calling out to him.
It would’ve been easy to get lost in it and embrace the lure of the fog, giving himself to the darkness.
“Do you ever wonder what’s out there?” Charlie asked, pulling Elijah from his thoughts.
“Beyond the fog?”
“No. In it.”
Charlie tipped his head to the side, wrinkling his nose as he stared at the fog in the distance. “We know there are creatures of shadow that lurk in the fog; we’ve met them. But what are they, really?” Charlie sighed and looked down. “My mother used to tell me stories of the shadow fog. She seemed to think it wasn’t just fog but also a portal to the fae realm, and that’s where the creatures came from. My father says it’s where the unworthy go when they die, trapped in an eternal darkness…”
Turning away from the water, Charlie looked up at Elijah. “What are we doing out here, Eli?” he asked quietly. “What is it you’re looking for?”
Elijah met his gaze and froze. Part of him didn’t want to answer; he had meant to do this alone, and his first instinct told him to keep his intentions to himself. However, another part of him knew Charlie deserved the truth. He had willingly come this far with Elijah because he didn’t want him to be alone.
If anyone deserved Elijah’s honesty, it was Charlie.
Elijah sighed and opened his mouth to answer when Hal’s voice cut him off.
“Alright, lads, this is as far as I go,” Hal announced as he jumped down the steps from the helm. He had taken them to the first island in the archipelago, the only one not yet touched by the shadow fog.
Elijah frowned in confusion. “I thought we agreed on the final island at the edge of the fog,” he objected.
“Any other day, and I could take you there,” Hal said. “But not today, not on Beltane.” Hal sighed and looked away, folding his arms as he stared into the shadow fog. “The veil’s thin today, and any Faeborn worth their salt knows not to mess with the fog on a day like today…” Hal trailed off, side-eyeing Elijah. “Makes a man wonder what someone’s doing this far out on a day like this.”
”Shame I didn’t pay you to wonder,” Elijah retorted, stepping forward. “I paid you to get me to the Lonely Archipelago—”
“And I did,” Hal objected, quickly cutting him off. “There’s a rowboat attached to the side of the ship. If you insist on going that far out, you and your little pal can take that,” he offered, staring Elijah down. “But this is as far as I go. What you do from here on out is up to you.”
Elijah frowned.
This hadn’t been part of the plan. But Elijah wasn’t willing to back out now, not when he was so close.
Gritting his teeth, Elijah turned away. “Fine,” he agreed. “We’ll take the boat.”
Elijah and Charlie rowed in silence for a while, neither quite willing to speak first as they navigated the darkened waters. By now, Elijah could see the final island in the distance. A small land of nothing but sand and rocks, right at the edge of the shadow fog.
The voices were louder now, tickling Elijah’s ear as they chorused whispers to him. He still couldn’t decipher what it meant, but he knew it was calling to him.
This was why he had come out this far, why he had to be here tonight, why it couldn’t wait for another day.
There was something out there, beyond the veil, reaching out for Elijah. He had often felt its presence on holidays, but it was strongest on Samhain or Beltane when the veil was thinnest.
Elijah didn’t understand it. Not yet. But he knew better than to call his dreams and visions simple coincidence. The souls of Runemore were haunting him. The souls he had been too late to save—the souls he had unknowingly condemned.
“Eli,” Charlie spoke up, fidgeting uncomfortably as their boat hit the land, sliding into the sand. “You never answered my question earlier about why we’re out here,” Charlie explained. “I’ve never been this close to the shadow fog, and Hal was right; this isn’t the place to go on a day like this…” Charlie’s eyes locked on Elijah, and his brows knitted together anxiously. “I just want to know why here? Why now?”
Elijah didn’t answer Charlie, his voice almost muffled against Elijah’s ears as he stepped out of the boat.
When Elijah’s boots hit the sand, something surged through him, a sensation unlike anything he had felt before. It was cold and sharp, something he felt like he should fear. Yet, in an odd, almost sickening way, Elijah didn’t feel afraid.
He felt at home.
The voices grew louder, and as Elijah walked across the island, each voice slowly became more coherent to his ears.
“Come,” they urged him. “Come home.”
Soon, Elijah stood on the other side of the island, directly in front of the shadow fog. It was right there, so close he could touch it. All he had to do was reach his hand out or step a foot forward, and he would be among the voices.
”Eli!” Charlie called out for him again, a sense of panic lacing his voice as he hovered in the back.
Elijah didn’t look at him this time; his eyes locked on the thick, dark fog before him. “Can you hear it?” he whispered, just loud enough for Charlie to hear.
“Hear what?”
Elijah slowly cocked his head to the side, reaching a hand forward to hover it a mere inch away from the fog. “The voices,” he explained. “This is why I came here. To speak with them.”
Elijah took another step forward, allowing the shadow fog to lap at the tips of his boots. “They’re haunting me. They wanted me to come here.” The voices from the fog had to be the same voices from his dreams, the people of Runemore. Elijah had angered them, but he could fix this. He could still save them.
Elijah furrowed his brows and lowered his voice. “They want me to join them…” he whispered. “They’re calling for me.”
“Come, come, come,” the voices urged him. “Come home.”
“All I have to do is let them take me…”
Would this make the dreams stop? Would this put an end to his visions?
“Elijah, don’t!” Charlie called for him again, and though Elijah knew he was a mere few feet away, his voice sounded distant and distorted, almost like a dream.
Elijah ignored Charlie’s pleas and stretched his hand out, plunging it through the shadow fog. Immediately, darkness lapped across his skin, latching onto him and pulling him further into the fog.
Elijah didn’t try to fight it, embracing the shadows as a mere extension of himself.
Somewhere, deep in his mind, a voice pleaded with him to fight back, to not let this be the end; however, Elijah didn’t listen. If this were truly the end, he would embrace it, just like the fairytales from Charlie’s book.
After all, what else was there when tragedy was all you knew?
Elijah placed a foot into the fog, willingly walking into it, when suddenly, a hand yanked him out. Elijah stumbled back, falling into the sand with a thump. He blinked in confusion; however, before he could question it, Charlie helped him back to his feet, an oval-shaped, purple portal appearing before them.
Elijah didn’t have time to think before Charlie pulled him through the portal.
In an instant, the Lonely Archipelago disappeared, replaced by a field of wildflowers. Elijah blinked in confusion as reality slowly washed over him. The fog that had coursed through his brain vanished, and a weight lifted from his mind, a weight he hadn’t known was there only moments prior.
With his hands gripping the grass, Charlie was kneeling on the ground in front of him, limbs shaking as violet hair fell in his eyes.
Elijah’s eyes widened, and he immediately knelt to check on him. “Charlie, are you alright? Where did you take us?”
Charlie didn’t answer immediately, staring stubbornly at the ground as he regained some strength before finally facing Elijah. “What were you thinking?” Charlie asked through gritted teeth, brows narrowed and gaze darkened in a wave of anger that seemed discerningly off-putting coming from him.
Elijah blinked. “What?”
Charlie pushed himself off the ground. “What were you thinking?” he snapped, waving his arm in the air as he glowered at Elijah. “Do you know how terrifying that was? You were lost in some kind of trance, and nothing I said pulled you out of it. You kept talking about voices calling for you, and then you walked into the shadow fog!” Charlie shouted, staring Elijah in the eyes. “Then, for a moment, you were…you were gone,” he whispered.
Elijah backed up in surprise. It was rare to find Charlie angry and even rarer for Charlie’s wrath to be targeted at him. Earlier, he had compared Charlie to the sun for his warmth and light, and while all of that was still true, at the moment, Elijah couldn’t help but see the fire in him, too, burning as hot as the sun.
Stepping away, Elijah fumbled over his words. “I wasn’t gone, I was just—”
”Yes, you were, Eli!” Charlie argued. “The shadow fog took you. You were lost to it. I pulled you out!” Charlie gestured to his chest, huffing through his nostrils as he stomped his foot on the ground. “What would’ve happened if I wasn’t here? Was this your plan all along? To sacrifice yourself to the shadow fog? To what end, Eli?” Charlie shouted, stepping closer to him. “Lunumbra needs you, Runemore needs you, I need you!”
Elijah stumbled, searching for something to say. He hadn’t gone there intending to sacrifice himself, not initially. He had just wanted answers, answers he thought the fog might have for him. It wasn’t until he stepped foot on that island that something changed.
Elijah’s mind flashed with visions. The blooded eyes of Runemore’s ghosts, haunting his dreams. The soulless look in Emery’s eyes as his younger brother asked him why he let him die. Malachi’s blood on his hands, staining his palms red with murder, not just Malachi’s, but of every soul who had been victim to the tyranny Elijah had taken too long to stop.
Five years.
Malachi had ruled over Runemore for five agonizing years. So many people had suffered because of it, and Elijah had waited five years to stop it.
All that blood and suffering was on his hands just as much as Malachi’s.
“I…I’m sorry,” Elijah whispered, unable to stop the tears building in his eyes as he collapsed to his knees, head bowed to the ground. “Runemore needs a leader, but how can I lead them when I let them suffer for so long? I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything I do reminds me of them.”
Elijah choked back a sob, gripping fistfuls of grass. “They haunt me, Charlie, every single life lost, they follow me everywhere, howling at me every time I close my eyes…I just thought it might be connected to the voices in the fog.” Elijah’s hair fell in his face as he stared at the ground. “I just wanted the haunting to stop…”
Something soft and warm wrapped around Elijah, and he froze, slowly lifting his head, eyes wide in surprise.
Charlie didn’t look at him as he wrapped his arms around Elijah and hugged him. “What Malachi did was not your fault,” he whispered.
“I should’ve done something sooner,” Elijah objected hoarsely. “I should’ve—I should’ve…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.
Charlie ran his hand through Elijah’s hair, pulling him closer. “Eli,” Charlie started softly. “You did enough.”
Maybe it was the warmth of the hug or the softness of Charlie’s words, but whatever was left of Elijah’s barriers came crashing down at that moment. He wrapped his arms around Charlie and buried his head in the crook of his neck, allowing the tears to flow freely for the first time in well over six months.
Elijah didn’t cry when Malachi died, nor had he cried since.
Runemore needed him to be strong; they needed him to shoulder their burdens and heal the wounds from the last five years. There hadn’t been time for Elijah to confront what had happened.
Or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to.
Slowly, Elijah calmed down, and he loosened his grip on Charlie. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” Elijah said, pulling away and wiping at his eyes.
Charlie smiled at him. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.” Charlie paused, and their eyes met.
For a brief moment, Elijah thought there might’ve been more Charlie wanted to say. Instead, he looked away.
The moment passed, and Elijah stood up, looking at the sky as sunset fell upon the Lunumbra. “We should…we should get back to Runemore,” he said, clearing his throat. “Where did you bring us?”
Charlie got up, dusting his pants off. “Um, we’re not far,” he promised. “I didn’t have the energy to bring us back to the city, but we’re close; I think we’re in a clearing I discovered last year in Rune Woods,” he explained, looking around as if to double-check. “I was aiming for home, but this is close enough.”
Elijah nodded in agreement. “We’ll be able to get back by tonight…though we will have to let Hal know where we are. I’ll send a bird. Hopefully, he’ll be understanding.”
”He probably thinks we’re dead,” Charlie added, swinging his arms around.
Elijah paused, thinking back to what Charlie had said. How Elijah, for a brief moment, was lost to the shadow fog.
They might not be dead, but he could’ve been without Charlie.
Elijah risked a glance back at him and coughed to get his attention. “Thank you for saving me back there. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
Charlie quickly looked away, tucking a violet strand of hair behind his ear as he shuffled his feet. “Well, I did say going alone was dangerous; you just needed someone to watch your back; it didn’t have to be me.”
Elijah smiled at him. “Maybe not,” he agreed and stepped forward, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “But I’m glad it was you,” he told him.
Charlie glanced back at him, his lips curving into a hesitant, slight smile, quite unlike the large grins he displayed for everyone else.
They stayed like that for a second before Charlie looked away, stepping forward and rubbing his hands together. “Alright, let’s get a move on; I’d love to be back in time for the bonfire…”
Elijah nodded in agreement and followed Charlie through the woods, pausing as his eyes lingered on the other man while Charlie happily talked about his favorite Beltane traditions, from the giant bonfire to the dancing and singing.
Elijah smiled as he watched him.
He still had questions about the voices in the shadow fog and why they called for him, but finding answers could wait another day.
And at least Elijah knew that the next time he wanted answers, he didn’t have to look for them alone.
Runemore celebrated Malachi’s demise with feasts and dances. The streets hadn’t gone to sleep for weeks after news of his death spread like wildfire throughout the city and neighboring towns. For the others, it meant freedom from their tyrant, it meant change, it meant peace.
For Elijah, it meant something different.
He never regretted killing him, not for a moment. However, it was all too easy to close his eyes and see flashes of the memory.
Malachi stepped forward, the wind whipping through his black and white hair.
Elijah steadied his breathing as he grasped the curved carving knife hidden under his coat.
Inhale.
Elijah plunged the knife through his back, between his spine and his ribs, hitting Malachi’s heart.
Exhale.
He pulled the knife free, Malachi’s eyes glazed over, and blood spilled everywhere, soaking Malachi’s clothes, leaking from the knife and dripping onto the grass, staining Elijah’s hands red as the blood oozed between the crevasses of his fingers, flowing across the life, mind, and heart lines on his palms.
Elijah blinked, bringing himself back to the present.
He stood in the center of the city as people set up decorations for Beltane. Spring was upon them, and much like the world around them, the people, too, were beginning to heal from the dark, cold months of winter.
Slowly, life returned to Runemore. It would take time for anyone to heal from Malachi’s five-year reign of torment, but at least by now, Elijah could see the seeds of life beginning to sprout again as children laughed and music drifted through the streets.
Beltane would be upon them soon and, with it, a season of rebirth.
Yet, as Elijah watched the townsfolk prepare the celebrations, he couldn’t find it in him to join in. Not yet. Not when there was still something he needed to do.
Sighing, Elijah turned away, walking further down the street, weaving through the city with the ease of someone who had spent his entire life in Runemore until he had finally neared the edge of the city.
He had left a note for Eleanor and Elfie; his siblings would know where he went and when to expect him back. Elijah trusted them and his Court to keep Runemore safe without him, at least for today.
“Hey, Eli!” called a voice from behind, and Elijah froze. “Where’re you going?”
Elijah turned around to find a familiar man, twenty years old—the same as Elijah, waiting for him, with fluffy, deep violet hair that framed his round face. Natural brown skin decorated with large spot-like freckles and striking honey-yellow eyes that stood out like a fire in the dark. The man wore a colorful, hand-knit cloak and a smile brighter than the sun as he looked at Elijah.
Charlie Chesnokov.
Elijah nodded in greeting to him and turned away. “I need to take care of something before Beltane; I’ll only be gone a day or so,” he explained.
Charlie tipped his head to the side, making a face as he looked at Elijah. “Leaving alone, so close to Beltane, never bodes well in stories,” he warned and swung his arms in the air, light on his feet as he fell into step next to Elijah. “Would you like some company?”
Elijah raised his brow, sending him a look. “You don’t even know where I’m going,” he objected. “I’m sure you have family and friends to visit, people to celebrate with; you should spend your time with them, not with me.”
Charlie shrugged. “Bifrost took a trip out to Horizon recently. He closed up the bookshop and everything, so it’s just me until he gets back,” Charlie explained and smiled up at Elijah. “Besides, if I don’t go with you, who will make sure you don’t get swept up by a vengeful spirit or a shadow monster?” he questioned and tutted, shaking his head. “I can hear the uproar now, Runemore’s brave new Vespertine, taken from us too soon by a monster from the shadows.”
Charlie took a deep breath, clasping his hands in front of him. “I can’t let that happen; you’re far too important to Runemore to lose right before Beltane,” he decided and smiled at Elijah.
Elijah hummed softly. He knew Charlie was trying to lighten the mood but also knew it wasn’t a lie. Runemore couldn’t afford to lose two leaders within a year, and although Elijah knew he could handle himself, the veil was thin right now, and the chance of something happening was never impossible.
Sighing, Elijah turned away from Charlie, gesturing with his head for Charlie to join him. “Well, I can’t argue with logic like that,” he decided. “You may come if you wish, though I warn you that I am not going anywhere fun.”
If it had been anyone else, Elijah might’ve refused company, but when it was Charlie, he never seemed to mind.
”I don’t know,” Charlie objected, swinging his arms around. “I like to think I can find the fun in any location. Where are we going?”
“The Lonely Archipelago.”
Charlie paused, the color draining from his face. “Oh. I see…” he trailed off, fidgeting a little as he tugged at his cloak. After a minute, Charlie nodded and lifted his chin, taking a deep breath. “That’s across Lunumbra; it’ll take a while to get there, even by train. Do you want me to try and portal—”
”No,” Elijah objected quickly. “The further the distance, the more energy it drains from you; I would never ask that of you,” he said, shaking his head as he looked down at Charlie. “Besides, as you said, it’s nearly Beltane; I don’t want anything to mess with your magic.”
Charlie hummed unsurely, looking down. “If you’re sure…” he agreed. “But it’ll still take us a while to get there. Train would be the fastest route, and even then, it’ll be a couple of hours,” he said, glancing back at Elijah. “Are we stopping in Horizon or going through the Suncross Mountains?”
“We’re taking the mountain pass,” Elijah answered, looking off into the distance where the vague silhouette of the Suncross Mountains glistened in view. “The less stops we have to make, the better.”
Charlie nodded in understanding, standing next to Elijah. “Interesting choice,” he commented, and Elijah glanced back at him, meeting his gaze.
Charlie furrowed his brows together in thought, a soft hum emitting from his throat. “My father used to warn me that mountains could trap spirits, blocking them from ascending to the Celestial City and that, if you paid attention, you could hear their cries of fear echoing from the mountains during times like this when the veil is at its thinnest…”
Elijah froze at the thought, and he slowly side-eyed Charlie as if half-expecting him to crack a joke and burst into laughter.
Charlie did neither, and after a minute, he took a breath and looked up at Elijah, smiling at him. “To the train station then?” he asked.
____________
The train station was oddly quiet by the time Elijah and Charlie arrived. Few people made trips out of the city so close to Beltane, and even fewer visited. It had been a long time since Runemore received visitors, and though the rare, brave adventurers chose to test the waters and see for themselves if Runemore was truly free of their tyrant, getting people to visit was a slow-going process.
One, Elijah hoped to remedy as life went on. He could prove to the rest of Lunumbra that Runemore had changed for the better now; he could turn a place seeped in fear and ruin into something warm and light, and Beltane would be the first step to that.
“Wow, a whole compartment to ourselves,” Charlie said, breaking Elijah out of his thoughts as he walked into the compartment and swung his arms around, humming in approval. “Dazzling, I’d whistle in approval if I knew how.” Charlie turned back to Elijah and gestured with his hands. “I could never figure out what to do with my tongue,” he explained, pointing to his mouth.
Elijah snorted softly through his nostrils and closed the door, sitting down. “Your tongue goes against your bottom teeth,” he explained and gave an example of a low whistle.
Charlie’s eyes lit up. “You made that seem so easy!” he commented and quickly sat down next to him, pressing his hands to his seat cushions as he leaned forward, staring at Elijah with large, curious eyes. “Can you show me again?”
Elijah obediently whistled again.
Charlie clapped once in excitement and leaned back, making a face as he tried to mimic what Elijah had done to no avail. After a few tries, Charlie sighed in defeat and scooted further away. “I just can’t figure it out. That’s okay; you can whistle for me,” he decided with a smile as he looked at Elijah.
Elijah’s lips curved into a soft smile as he watched him. Charlie had a way of brightening nearly any situation. In a way, it almost seemed fair to compare him to the sun. Something so bright that it couldn’t be ignored as it lit up the world. Even the moon would not shine without its light, and that was the sort of light Elijah saw in Charlie.
Charlie kicked his feet a little and pulled a book from his bag. It had a purple cover and off-white pages, though Elijah couldn’t distinguish the title from where he sat.
“What are you reading?” Elijah questioned curiously as he fidgeted in his seat. The train ride to Knife’s Edge would take at least three hours, so it would be best to get comfortable.
Charlie glanced up and offered Elijah a smile. “It’s a collection of fairy tales written by Madigan Willoughby,” he explained, lifting the book for Elijah to see. “I’ve heard he’s going to publish another volume soon.”
“Oh, I love his stories,” Elijah said. “They’re all so tragic.”
“Tragic?” Charlie repeated, a slight edge to his words as he cocked his head to the side, studying Elijah.
Elijah nodded. “Well, yes, tragic,” he repeated. “Almost every tale ends in heartbreak, death, or some other form of tragedy; how else would you describe it?” he asked.
Charlie fidgeted uncomfortably and looked down. “I…I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he admitted softly.
“Don’t get me wrong, I admire Willoughby’s work,” Elijah added quickly, waving his hand in the air. “He’s a masterful storyteller, and as a storyteller myself, I have a respect for the art,” he added, placing a hand over his chest. “I just wish he’d give at least one of them a happy ending.”
Charlie frowned, looking down. “What if tragedy is all he knows how to write?”
Elijah’s brows furrowed in thought as he pondered the question. “Then, I imagine Mr. Willoughby must be a very tragic man.” Not that that was something Elijah could fault him for. On the contrary, that might be something Elijah had in common with the author. After all, could he really ask for a happy ending when he saw none for himself? Perhaps that was why Elijah was drawn to Willoughby’s books: He could read the tragedy on each page and see a reflection of himself.
Charlie didn’t respond immediately, looking out the window as the train took off. After a minute, he sighed and glanced back at Elijah. “I suppose you might be right,” he agreed and smiled at Elijah, inhaling sharply. “So, what story of his is your favorite? Tragedy aside?” he asked, changing the topic.
Elijah returned the smile with one of his own. “Oh, that is hard to say. I’ve always been partial to the Crow’s Disguise, but the Forget-Me-Not Princess is another good one…” he trailed off, looking back at Charlie. “What about you?”
Charlie smiled at the question and flipped open the book, his shoulders relaxing. “I like all of them, but Lionheart is one of my favorites. Did you know he wrote it first but scrapped it for years before revisiting it? I suppose if I had to pick a favorite, that’s the one I’d pick…”
Charlie continued to talk, rambling about the stories in his book.
Elijah leaned his head back, content to listen to whatever Charlie had to say until they arrived at Knife’s Edge.
After all, it was a welcome distraction from the memories that continued to surface inside his head.
Elijah stared out the window, taking a deep breath as the Suncross Mountains came into view. His mind flashed back to what Charlie had said, how spirits get trapped in the mountains, screaming out in fear. He couldn’t help but wonder just what souls were trapped there. No bodies, no peace, and no way to the next life.
How many screams could he hear if Elijah paid attention? Was the wind howling in the canyons merely nature’s wrath, or was it something else? Something otherworldly?
Slowly, Elijah drifted off, lulled to sleep by the sound of Charlie’s voice and the rhythmic motion of the train speeding down the tracks.
Elijah stood alone on a dark cliffside, the moon glowing above him and the jagged rocks lining the ground where the ocean meets the land below him.
“Eli…” The wind howled Elijah’s name in a sickeningly familiar voice he hadn’t heard in quite some time.
“Malachi,” Elijah said, whipping his head around to face the other man; however, when he turned around, no one was there. Just Elijah and the moon.
“This is your fault, Elijah,” whispered the voice, and for a split second, Elijah swore he could feel Malachi’s presence next to him. “All of this is because of you.”
Elijah turned around again, his heart beating in his chest. Malachi wasn’t there; however, this time, Elijah spotted a small boy, roughly around the age of eight, crying on his knees not far off, with raven black hair that matched Elijah’s and deep blue eyes that could’ve been confused for violet in the right light.
Emery. Elijah’s youngest brother.
Elijah ran over to him. “Emery, I’m here, it’s alright, I’m here—” As soon as Elijah got close enough, he froze, quickly realizing that the boy wasn’t crying tears, but rather, scarlet red blood.
Emery lifted his head, cupping the blood in his hands as it spilled from his eyes. “How could you let it get this far?” he asked in his soft voice. “How could you let this happen?”
Elijah shook his head, a wave of cold coursing through his veins as he stepped back. “No—no, I never meant to—I never wanted it to get this far; I tried to stop him, I did stop him—”
”Not soon enough!” Emery snapped, and when he stood, he hovered in the air, dripping blood onto the grass. “How many of us died before you acted? This is your fault!”
Behind Emery, more ghosts appeared, each bleeding from their eyes as they screamed at Elijah. Each face was one he recognized, from the oldest of men to the youngest of children. They were the faces of Runemore, the people who had suffered the most through Malachi’s reign of torment and terror.
Those that had died because of it.
Elijah’s eyes widened as he gulped, stepping back until his feet pressed against the edge of the cliff. Pebbles broke off from his boots, falling into the darkness below him, and as the ghosts grew, the moon turned red behind them.
”See, Elijah?” Malachi’s voice whispered in his ear. “It’s all your fault!”
Elijah woke with a start, blinking rapidly as he looked around his surroundings, his heart pounding loudly in his chest until he realized where he was and relaxed his shoulders. He was alright, he was in the compartment on the train, with Charlie…
Elijah paused, quickly noticing the absence of the other man. Elijah frowned, and for a split second, he worried that Charlie had left until he noticed Charlie’s bag resting in his seat, with the book of fairy tales poking out. He was still here; he just…wasn’t here.
Standing up, Elijah ran a hand through his hair. “I wonder how much time has passed?” he murmured.
Just then, the compartment door opened, and Elijah turned around to see Charlie standing in the doorway, holding two cups of what seemed to be frozen custard in his hands.
As soon as Charlie spotted him, he smiled. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, walking into the compartment and slinging his bag over his shoulder. “We’ll be arriving at Knife's Edge any moment; I was just about to wake you—” Charlie paused, looking at the custard. “This is for you, by the way. I got it in the dining car; blackberry is still your favorite flavor, right?”
Elijah blinked, tentatively taking the cup from him. “It is,” he confirmed and looked over the custard. A small wooden spoon was in the middle, and although the pink custard was soft, it hadn’t begun to melt yet. “I didn’t know they had frozen custard here.”
“It’s a new addition!” Charlie explained happily and showed Elijah the second cup, half peach and half raspberry, swirled together. “One of their new kitchen staff has ice magic. I had a lovely conversation with him while you were resting; he’s a descendant of a jotun! We talked about ice magic for a while, and he gave me this one—” Charlie gestured to his cup. “For free!”
Elijah nodded and looked down at his cup, stirring the blackberry custard with the spoon. “You didn’t have to get me one,” he objected. “How much was it? I can pay you back.”
Charlie shook his head. “No, thank you, it’s a gift, no money back required,” he promised with a wave of his hands. “Besides, I hate eating alone; it gets lonely, so I thought it would be better to share it with you,” he explained and smiled at Elijah.
Elijah met Charlie’s gaze and smiled back. It hadn’t been a treat he expected, but nonetheless, it was a welcome one. “Thank you,” he said, scooping up some of the custard to sample. Immediately, the sweet taste of cream, sugar, and blackberry melted on his tongue, and Elijah couldn’t help but hum in approval.
Next to him, Charlie tried his own custard, forgoing the spoon and licking it directly out of the cup with his tongue, getting a spot on his nose.
Elijah did his best not to chuckle. “Don’t tell me they only gave us one spoon,” he joked, following Charlie out of the compartment and exiting the train.
Charlie blinked and looked back at Elijah, tipping his head curious to the side for a moment before his eyes lit up in understanding, and he quickly shook his head. “No, no, don’t worry, they gave us two spoons,” he promised, holding two fingers up to emphasize his point. “I just don’t like the texture of the wooden spoons, and I’m always worried about getting a splinter in my mouth,” Charlie added, making a face as he shivered at the thought.
Smiling up at Elijah, Charlie continued. “So I thought it would be easier to use nature’s spoon!” He exclaimed and lifted the cup to his face, licking more custard. “Tada!”
Elijah chuckled and shook his hand, pulling a white handkerchief from his vest pocket. “I see. Well, I won’t stop you, but I should let you know that you have just a smidge of custard on your nose,” he warned, offering Charlie the handkerchief to clean it.
Charlie’s cheeks warmed with embarrassment. “Oops,” he whispered, letting out a light, slightly strained chuckle as he took the handkerchief from Elijah and quickly wiped his face. “I had no idea, thank you,” he said and followed Elijah out of the train and onto the only train station in Knife’s Edge.
The atmosphere was warm and humid and far busier than things had been in Runemore, with people shouting at each other and pushing their way through the crowds.
Charlie hovered close to Elijah, clearing his throat. “So, now that we’re here, how will we get to the Lonely Archipelago?” he questioned, looking up at Elijah. “We’ll need a sailor, and not just any sailor either. We’ll need someone willing to go that close to the shadow fog, and I don’t know many sailors who dare to go that far…”
Elijah hummed in response. “I already thought of that,” he explained with a quick wave of his hand. “I heard word of a sailor out here who could navigate parts of the shadow fog, so I sent him a letter asking for his assistance. Luckily, he was happy to oblige…” Elijah paused, discreetly revealing a pouch of coins to Charlie. “For a price, of course.”
Charlie furrowed his brows in confusion. “I’ve never heard of any sailors like that; who is he?”
Just then, a commotion sounded a few feet ahead, and Elijah stepped out of the way of a wobbly man who fell at his feet. A crowd circled over the commotion, and Elijah weaved his way through, pausing once he made it to the front of the crowd.
In the center of the circle, a tall, well-muscled man with wavy brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and striking green eyes ducked out of the way of another man, this one short and stout and covered in scars. The first man smirked and put his hands behind his back as he dodged the flurry of attacks while a red coat with a silver trim hung loosely over his shoulders.
“Come on, then, mate, you aren’t even trying!” the first man taunted. “I’m not even using my hands!”
The second man charged again and completely missed his target.
The first man sighed in disapproval and struck fast, grabbing his opponent by the back of his shirt and hoisting his entire body over his head before tossing him into the nearby crates.
The crowd cheered, and the first man took a bow. “Thank you, thank you, it was nothing though, really, hardly even a challenge…”
Charlie’s eyes widened.
Elijah smirked and glanced down at him, gesturing his arm out. “Charlie, meet Hal Highwater,” he introduced. “The best sailor in all of Lunumbra.”
Hearing his name, Hal turned his attention to Elijah and Charlie, dusting off his hands as he walked over. “Eli, glad to see you made it,” he greeted, smirking as he placed a hand on his hips. “Who’s your little pal?”
Elijah opened his mouth to answer. However, Charlie beat him to it.
“I’m Charlie!” he introduced himself, sticking his hand out for Hal to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.” Charlie looked past Hal, eyeing the man he had been fighting. “Is he alright?”
“Eh, don’t worry about him; he knew what he was getting into,” Hal said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Charlie, eh?” he asked, shaking Charlie’s outstretched hand. “Quite the little guy, aren’t you? I bet I could snap you in half with my knee.”
Charlie laughed, though Elijah couldn’t help but notice the light curve of his lips, tighter than his usual smiles.
“I’m sure you think you could!” Charlie happily agreed, the friendly tone of his voice never slipping as he pulled his hand free. “I just hope you’re as good at sailing as you are at your acute observations!”
Hal snorted in response, pointing his thumb at his chest. “I’m the best damn sailor around, Love. Trust me, you’re in good hands,” he said and turned around, gesturing for Elijah and Charlie to follow him. “Come on, we’ve wasted enough time; if you two are serious about heading to the Lonely Archipelago, we better go. Sawyer’s already on the ship.”
Elijah fell into step behind Hal, casting a look back at Charlie. “So, what do you think of our sailor?” he questioned in bemusement.
Charlie glanced from Elijah to Hal, humming softly. “He is definitely quite the character,” Charlie answered.
Elijah chuckled lightly in response. “Welcome to Knife’s Edge. Everyone here is a character.”
____________
Hal’s ship was smaller than Elijah had expected. Fitting enough for a crew of ten or so people, but no more than fifteen at best. He had been anticipating something similar to the Drifters, the privateer vessel that served the noblemen of Knife’s Edge.
Instead, he was met with something…not quite small, though far more manageable. Hal had called it the Sea Lion, which seemed like an odd name for a ship, but Elijah knew better than to pry.
Hal steered the ship, standing at the helm as he focused on the islands in the distance. Another man kept him company—a short man with soft blonde hair and light blue eyes that Elijah had come to know as Sawyer, Hal’s right-hand man, and, if Elijah was to guess by the way he hovered so closely over Hal, something quite a bit more.
Turning away from Hal and Sawyer, Elijah spotted Charlie nearby, leaning forward to stare into the water as he rested his elbows against the railing, brows knitted together in thought and concentration.
Smiling softly, Elijah moved to join him, mimicking Charlie’s pose and resting his elbows over the ship’s railing. “Copper for your thoughts?” he asked.
“Hmm?” Charlie glanced at him for a moment before looking back at the water. “Oh, I was just…thinking,” he explained, tipping his head to the side. “About the shadow fog.” Charlie looked forward as the Sea Lion neared a collection of small islands at the edge of Lunumbran waters, where the shadow fog—a thick, pitch-black fog, lapped over the ocean surface.
Growing up on Lunumbra, Elijah knew the shadow fog well and how it kept everyone trapped on the islands of Lunumbra for over a hundred and fifty years, as it was impossible to navigate. No one went in, and no one came out.
They were close enough to it that Elijah swore he could hear something. Voices, whispering things he couldn’t understand from the depths of the fog, calling out to him.
It would’ve been easy to get lost in it and embrace the lure of the fog, giving himself to the darkness.
“Do you ever wonder what’s out there?” Charlie asked, pulling Elijah from his thoughts.
“Beyond the fog?”
“No. In it.”
Charlie tipped his head to the side, wrinkling his nose as he stared at the fog in the distance. “We know there are creatures of shadow that lurk in the fog; we’ve met them. But what are they, really?” Charlie sighed and looked down. “My mother used to tell me stories of the shadow fog. She seemed to think it wasn’t just fog but also a portal to the fae realm, and that’s where the creatures came from. My father says it’s where the unworthy go when they die, trapped in an eternal darkness…”
Turning away from the water, Charlie looked up at Elijah. “What are we doing out here, Eli?” he asked quietly. “What is it you’re looking for?”
Elijah met his gaze and froze. Part of him didn’t want to answer; he had meant to do this alone, and his first instinct told him to keep his intentions to himself. However, another part of him knew Charlie deserved the truth. He had willingly come this far with Elijah because he didn’t want him to be alone.
If anyone deserved Elijah’s honesty, it was Charlie.
Elijah sighed and opened his mouth to answer when Hal’s voice cut him off.
“Alright, lads, this is as far as I go,” Hal announced as he jumped down the steps from the helm. He had taken them to the first island in the archipelago, the only one not yet touched by the shadow fog.
Elijah frowned in confusion. “I thought we agreed on the final island at the edge of the fog,” he objected.
“Any other day, and I could take you there,” Hal said. “But not today, not on Beltane.” Hal sighed and looked away, folding his arms as he stared into the shadow fog. “The veil’s thin today, and any Faeborn worth their salt knows not to mess with the fog on a day like today…” Hal trailed off, side-eyeing Elijah. “Makes a man wonder what someone’s doing this far out on a day like this.”
”Shame I didn’t pay you to wonder,” Elijah retorted, stepping forward. “I paid you to get me to the Lonely Archipelago—”
“And I did,” Hal objected, quickly cutting him off. “There’s a rowboat attached to the side of the ship. If you insist on going that far out, you and your little pal can take that,” he offered, staring Elijah down. “But this is as far as I go. What you do from here on out is up to you.”
Elijah frowned.
This hadn’t been part of the plan. But Elijah wasn’t willing to back out now, not when he was so close.
Gritting his teeth, Elijah turned away. “Fine,” he agreed. “We’ll take the boat.”
____________
Elijah and Charlie rowed in silence for a while, neither quite willing to speak first as they navigated the darkened waters. By now, Elijah could see the final island in the distance. A small land of nothing but sand and rocks, right at the edge of the shadow fog.
The voices were louder now, tickling Elijah’s ear as they chorused whispers to him. He still couldn’t decipher what it meant, but he knew it was calling to him.
This was why he had come out this far, why he had to be here tonight, why it couldn’t wait for another day.
There was something out there, beyond the veil, reaching out for Elijah. He had often felt its presence on holidays, but it was strongest on Samhain or Beltane when the veil was thinnest.
Elijah didn’t understand it. Not yet. But he knew better than to call his dreams and visions simple coincidence. The souls of Runemore were haunting him. The souls he had been too late to save—the souls he had unknowingly condemned.
“Eli,” Charlie spoke up, fidgeting uncomfortably as their boat hit the land, sliding into the sand. “You never answered my question earlier about why we’re out here,” Charlie explained. “I’ve never been this close to the shadow fog, and Hal was right; this isn’t the place to go on a day like this…” Charlie’s eyes locked on Elijah, and his brows knitted together anxiously. “I just want to know why here? Why now?”
Elijah didn’t answer Charlie, his voice almost muffled against Elijah’s ears as he stepped out of the boat.
When Elijah’s boots hit the sand, something surged through him, a sensation unlike anything he had felt before. It was cold and sharp, something he felt like he should fear. Yet, in an odd, almost sickening way, Elijah didn’t feel afraid.
He felt at home.
The voices grew louder, and as Elijah walked across the island, each voice slowly became more coherent to his ears.
“Come,” they urged him. “Come home.”
Soon, Elijah stood on the other side of the island, directly in front of the shadow fog. It was right there, so close he could touch it. All he had to do was reach his hand out or step a foot forward, and he would be among the voices.
”Eli!” Charlie called out for him again, a sense of panic lacing his voice as he hovered in the back.
Elijah didn’t look at him this time; his eyes locked on the thick, dark fog before him. “Can you hear it?” he whispered, just loud enough for Charlie to hear.
“Hear what?”
Elijah slowly cocked his head to the side, reaching a hand forward to hover it a mere inch away from the fog. “The voices,” he explained. “This is why I came here. To speak with them.”
Elijah took another step forward, allowing the shadow fog to lap at the tips of his boots. “They’re haunting me. They wanted me to come here.” The voices from the fog had to be the same voices from his dreams, the people of Runemore. Elijah had angered them, but he could fix this. He could still save them.
Elijah furrowed his brows and lowered his voice. “They want me to join them…” he whispered. “They’re calling for me.”
“Come, come, come,” the voices urged him. “Come home.”
“All I have to do is let them take me…”
Would this make the dreams stop? Would this put an end to his visions?
“Elijah, don’t!” Charlie called for him again, and though Elijah knew he was a mere few feet away, his voice sounded distant and distorted, almost like a dream.
Elijah ignored Charlie’s pleas and stretched his hand out, plunging it through the shadow fog. Immediately, darkness lapped across his skin, latching onto him and pulling him further into the fog.
Elijah didn’t try to fight it, embracing the shadows as a mere extension of himself.
Somewhere, deep in his mind, a voice pleaded with him to fight back, to not let this be the end; however, Elijah didn’t listen. If this were truly the end, he would embrace it, just like the fairytales from Charlie’s book.
After all, what else was there when tragedy was all you knew?
Elijah placed a foot into the fog, willingly walking into it, when suddenly, a hand yanked him out. Elijah stumbled back, falling into the sand with a thump. He blinked in confusion; however, before he could question it, Charlie helped him back to his feet, an oval-shaped, purple portal appearing before them.
Elijah didn’t have time to think before Charlie pulled him through the portal.
In an instant, the Lonely Archipelago disappeared, replaced by a field of wildflowers. Elijah blinked in confusion as reality slowly washed over him. The fog that had coursed through his brain vanished, and a weight lifted from his mind, a weight he hadn’t known was there only moments prior.
With his hands gripping the grass, Charlie was kneeling on the ground in front of him, limbs shaking as violet hair fell in his eyes.
Elijah’s eyes widened, and he immediately knelt to check on him. “Charlie, are you alright? Where did you take us?”
Charlie didn’t answer immediately, staring stubbornly at the ground as he regained some strength before finally facing Elijah. “What were you thinking?” Charlie asked through gritted teeth, brows narrowed and gaze darkened in a wave of anger that seemed discerningly off-putting coming from him.
Elijah blinked. “What?”
Charlie pushed himself off the ground. “What were you thinking?” he snapped, waving his arm in the air as he glowered at Elijah. “Do you know how terrifying that was? You were lost in some kind of trance, and nothing I said pulled you out of it. You kept talking about voices calling for you, and then you walked into the shadow fog!” Charlie shouted, staring Elijah in the eyes. “Then, for a moment, you were…you were gone,” he whispered.
Elijah backed up in surprise. It was rare to find Charlie angry and even rarer for Charlie’s wrath to be targeted at him. Earlier, he had compared Charlie to the sun for his warmth and light, and while all of that was still true, at the moment, Elijah couldn’t help but see the fire in him, too, burning as hot as the sun.
Stepping away, Elijah fumbled over his words. “I wasn’t gone, I was just—”
”Yes, you were, Eli!” Charlie argued. “The shadow fog took you. You were lost to it. I pulled you out!” Charlie gestured to his chest, huffing through his nostrils as he stomped his foot on the ground. “What would’ve happened if I wasn’t here? Was this your plan all along? To sacrifice yourself to the shadow fog? To what end, Eli?” Charlie shouted, stepping closer to him. “Lunumbra needs you, Runemore needs you, I need you!”
Elijah stumbled, searching for something to say. He hadn’t gone there intending to sacrifice himself, not initially. He had just wanted answers, answers he thought the fog might have for him. It wasn’t until he stepped foot on that island that something changed.
Elijah’s mind flashed with visions. The blooded eyes of Runemore’s ghosts, haunting his dreams. The soulless look in Emery’s eyes as his younger brother asked him why he let him die. Malachi’s blood on his hands, staining his palms red with murder, not just Malachi’s, but of every soul who had been victim to the tyranny Elijah had taken too long to stop.
Five years.
Malachi had ruled over Runemore for five agonizing years. So many people had suffered because of it, and Elijah had waited five years to stop it.
All that blood and suffering was on his hands just as much as Malachi’s.
“I…I’m sorry,” Elijah whispered, unable to stop the tears building in his eyes as he collapsed to his knees, head bowed to the ground. “Runemore needs a leader, but how can I lead them when I let them suffer for so long? I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. Everything I do reminds me of them.”
Elijah choked back a sob, gripping fistfuls of grass. “They haunt me, Charlie, every single life lost, they follow me everywhere, howling at me every time I close my eyes…I just thought it might be connected to the voices in the fog.” Elijah’s hair fell in his face as he stared at the ground. “I just wanted the haunting to stop…”
Something soft and warm wrapped around Elijah, and he froze, slowly lifting his head, eyes wide in surprise.
Charlie didn’t look at him as he wrapped his arms around Elijah and hugged him. “What Malachi did was not your fault,” he whispered.
“I should’ve done something sooner,” Elijah objected hoarsely. “I should’ve—I should’ve…” he trailed off, at a loss for words.
Charlie ran his hand through Elijah’s hair, pulling him closer. “Eli,” Charlie started softly. “You did enough.”
Maybe it was the warmth of the hug or the softness of Charlie’s words, but whatever was left of Elijah’s barriers came crashing down at that moment. He wrapped his arms around Charlie and buried his head in the crook of his neck, allowing the tears to flow freely for the first time in well over six months.
Elijah didn’t cry when Malachi died, nor had he cried since.
Runemore needed him to be strong; they needed him to shoulder their burdens and heal the wounds from the last five years. There hadn’t been time for Elijah to confront what had happened.
Or maybe he just hadn’t wanted to.
Slowly, Elijah calmed down, and he loosened his grip on Charlie. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You shouldn’t have to see me like this,” Elijah said, pulling away and wiping at his eyes.
Charlie smiled at him. “It’s okay,” he promised. “You shouldn’t have to do this alone.” Charlie paused, and their eyes met.
For a brief moment, Elijah thought there might’ve been more Charlie wanted to say. Instead, he looked away.
The moment passed, and Elijah stood up, looking at the sky as sunset fell upon the Lunumbra. “We should…we should get back to Runemore,” he said, clearing his throat. “Where did you bring us?”
Charlie got up, dusting his pants off. “Um, we’re not far,” he promised. “I didn’t have the energy to bring us back to the city, but we’re close; I think we’re in a clearing I discovered last year in Rune Woods,” he explained, looking around as if to double-check. “I was aiming for home, but this is close enough.”
Elijah nodded in agreement. “We’ll be able to get back by tonight…though we will have to let Hal know where we are. I’ll send a bird. Hopefully, he’ll be understanding.”
”He probably thinks we’re dead,” Charlie added, swinging his arms around.
Elijah paused, thinking back to what Charlie had said. How Elijah, for a brief moment, was lost to the shadow fog.
They might not be dead, but he could’ve been without Charlie.
Elijah risked a glance back at him and coughed to get his attention. “Thank you for saving me back there. I’m not sure what I’d do without you.”
Charlie quickly looked away, tucking a violet strand of hair behind his ear as he shuffled his feet. “Well, I did say going alone was dangerous; you just needed someone to watch your back; it didn’t have to be me.”
Elijah smiled at him. “Maybe not,” he agreed and stepped forward, placing a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “But I’m glad it was you,” he told him.
Charlie glanced back at him, his lips curving into a hesitant, slight smile, quite unlike the large grins he displayed for everyone else.
They stayed like that for a second before Charlie looked away, stepping forward and rubbing his hands together. “Alright, let’s get a move on; I’d love to be back in time for the bonfire…”
Elijah nodded in agreement and followed Charlie through the woods, pausing as his eyes lingered on the other man while Charlie happily talked about his favorite Beltane traditions, from the giant bonfire to the dancing and singing.
Elijah smiled as he watched him.
He still had questions about the voices in the shadow fog and why they called for him, but finding answers could wait another day.
And at least Elijah knew that the next time he wanted answers, he didn’t have to look for them alone.
